


Letters

by HungryCanadian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 18,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24751450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HungryCanadian/pseuds/HungryCanadian
Summary: It begins with a taunt and a letter, it ends with five.Or- Josephine gets an unexpected letter that changes everything. The enemies to lovers story you've all been waiting for. With a healthy dose of gay yearning.*Work already completed, updates daily.
Relationships: Josephine Montilyet/Female Trevelyan
Comments: 48
Kudos: 87
Collections: Finishedstoriesmine





	1. Chapter 1

The first letter Josephine received was on a particularly cold fall day, she was still unused to the frigid weather that the south of Thedas offered. Coupled with the mountain climate and the lack of insulation in Skyhold, she had pretty much been constantly shivering since fleeing Haven. The letter stood out clearly abandoned among the pile of paperwork and missives brought to her desk. The correspondence she received from other dignitaries and leaders across Thedas usually arrived in crisp white envelopes, written on the finest letterhead money could buy. But this letter, this one was different, the envelope yellowed and brittle, as if the contents of the paper seemed to be the only thing holding its fragile encasing together. The paper itself was crumpled and torn, as if it had been reused many times before. Josephine almost wrote it off as something that had been missorted, it was more likely to be addressed for Solas or Leliana due to the age of the paper and condition of its packaging. Except written clearly in bold slanted writing was her name: Lady Ambassador Montilyet. The condition of the letter gave her pause, but after a moment of consideration Josephine gave into her curiosity and opened the letter. 

_ Dear Lady Ambassador, _

_ I must admit, your idea to divert Lord Avery’s troops through Lake Celestine was a true master stroke of tactical maneuvering. It was you, was it not? Your Commander is no more than a child who plays at war. Trebuchets are not the answer to everything, and throwing Templar’s at any problem has only ever led to escalation not resolution. I did consider for a moment that perhaps it was your Spymaster who came up with such a plan. Of course once I received word that Lord Avery had joined the fray it was clear that this was the work of your hand. Not even the feared Lady Nightingale could coarse the Lord into doing something he did not want to do. The stubborn fool that he is.  _

_ Your reach is far and the lords and ladies of this continent that owe you many favors. I suggest you be careful not to over extend your reach, lest your fingers get snapped at, just like the dogs the Ferelden Lords who follow you love so much.  _

_ I think, perhaps this campaign will be more interesting with you at its head.  _

_ I await your next move with baited breath.  _

_ Cockroach  _

Josephine stared at the letter reading and rereading its slanting words with an expression of disbelief. After a moment she bolted out of the room and hurried up the many steps to the crows nest that Leliana occupied. She arrived there and Leliana was not to be seen, perhaps pulled into some meeting with the Inquisitor. One of her scouts walked by holding a stack of papers to be sent out. 

“What raven brought this letter?” Josephine asked, holding up the letter and envelope with a frantic expression on her face. The scout blinked and slowly took the letter from her hands. Josephine was practically vibrating with anxiety. Who could have been so bold to send such a letter. Perhaps it was a collector? Someone who wanted more of her family's land? Maybe they wanted to blackmail her or weaken her standing in the Inquisition. She would not stand down. There was nothing they could do to make her leave the Inquisition, she was going to help save the world no matter the cost. 

“It was this one.” 

Josephine was pulled out of her thoughts to the sight of the scout pointing at a rather innocuous looking raven. She wasn’t sure what she expected, perhaps something a little more scary or intimidating. She regarded the raven for another long moment, taking the envelope and letter back from the scout who went on their way. 

Now of course came the question of what to do about the letter. Should she tell Leliana? Or the Inquisitor? Both would be more than willing to help. But the letter had been for her, had spoken to her with the formality of someone who had been trained in the Game, and the familiarity of one who knew exactly who she was and what she was capable of. She found that thought oddly enticing. This writer, this Cockroach saw her as an equal of sorts, an opponent worthy of whatever Game they were playing. With a sigh Josephine grabbed a quill and paper off of the nearest table and began to write. 

_ Dear Cockroach, _

_ You say trebuchets are not the answer to everything, but I do believe it was the Elder One’s army who was buried under a mountain of snow. Perhaps trebuchets are sometimes the answer.  _

_ Also I would be remiss to ask, who would name someone after such a creature? _

_ Ambassador Montilyet  _

Josephine stared at the letter, short and sweet. It gave nothing away and hopefully would anger the recipient just enough to either not respond or slip up if they do decide to go further with their correspondence. 

She tied the letter to the raven and handed it over for the scout to send off. As she watched the raven fly off over the mountains Josephine couldn't help but feel some anticipation. Her job was to know what her opponent was going to do next, there was a certain type of excitement in the unpredictability of her new advisory. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can also find me on tumblr at world-of-thedas


	2. Chapter 2

She got her response a week later, the next envelope was on a nicer letterhead, still nothing like what she received from Orlais, or Nevarra or even Ferelden. But the paper was new this time, uncrumpled and unused. She smiled at this, somehow pleased that her opposition had been able to get some new paper. 

_ Dear Ambassador, _

_ It would seem your intelligence is out of date, please allow me to make my formal introduction.  _

_ Since the disaster that was the battle of Haven, the Exalted One has decided in a new change in leadership. Samson has been… removed from his position as General of the army, and I have taken up the leadership in his stead. Your Commanders little trick with the trebuchets will not work on me.  _

_ As for the name, it is a nickname given by the men who have served under me in the past. They were of the opinion that I am rather hard to kill. I would have to agree with this, seeing as they are all dead now and I am not.  _

_ Perhaps this new knowledge will shock and repulse you? You are a Lady after all, unused to the horrors of war and death. Have you ever been on a battlefield after everything has been said and done? The smell of blood so thick in the air you feel you may choke on it? It is easy to tell men to die for you, but less easy to see its gory aftermath.  _

_ Though it has only been a short time I assume you have already started to see my hand in our deadly dance. The Red Templars close in on the Nevarran borders, whispers of spies in the courts of Tevinter, and of course a legion of men diverted to the Empress De Lion. You see the steps I have started to take to lead us in our next dance, I can only wait and wonder, how you will respond? Perhaps you will follow and wait for the right moment, as I go to dip you, you spin away laughing at my folly. Maybe you will wrestle control from me, or perhaps invite a new partner into our dance. I am told the resources of your Inquisition’s Spymaster are vast.  _

_ I look forward to your next move. _

Josephine stared at the letter for a long tense minute, the message raised more questions than answers. A new General leading Corypheus’ army? That made sense, in the last week the reports that they had been getting from the field had been troubling, Cullen was being out maneuvered and out matched. Every countermove he made was returned with three new ones, each more devastating than the last. The Inquisition had established a strong foothold in Ferelden, but had lost much of their clout in Orlais. 

Josephine turned the words of the letter over and over in her mind, thinking of the best way to respond and both in words and in action. The letter had revealed much, but outside of this new General, nothing that she didn't already know. After long consideration she finally had her response.

_ Dear Cockroach, _

_ It is bold of you to assume that we are even dancing the same dance. I will perhaps humor your fantasy that you could ever lead me in any dance without my awareness. If I were to even dign to dance with you; know that the idea was placed there by me, the dance decided on was also chosen by me. All of this done with just a look at the right time, the right word to the right person.  _

_ I think perhaps my dear Cockroach that you are out of your depth. Careful that you do not get squashed.  _


	3. Chapter 3

Josephine watched as Cullen stormed out of the war room, steam practically coming out of his ears. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He had been out maneuvered, again. The enemy's forces had amassed in the Emprise De Lion and Cullen had responded in kind, sending more and more men and resources to the mountains to fight the Red Templars. They had practically been in their backyard; it was too dangerous to allow them to run rampant. But in doing so he had left other forces of the Inquisition exposed. They had just received reports that they had completely lost the Dales and a lot of ground in the Western Approach. The Inquisitor and Hawke would be traveling out there shortly to investigate the Wardens. Hopefully they would gain back some of the ground the Inquisition had lost. Unfortunately things were not looking good. 

Josephine returned to her desk despondent. She had been successful in currying favor and esteem from other nobles, but even with all the good will and support she had gained, Cullen was losing on the battlefield. It was keeping them from making any true progress. 

As she collapsed heavily at her desk the last few hours of the meeting weighing on her, Josephine began to go through her itinerary, hopeful that paperwork would help to calm her down. It was then she saw shuffled amongst her many papers and notes a letter, written in that familiar bold slanted handwriting. The paper had once again changed, it had gone back to crumpled and old. Cautiously she held the letter up to her nose taking a whiff. She got the faintest scent of iron. Or perhaps it was blood? This letter had been written on a battlefield. She clenched her jaw, it wasn’t like she didn’t know who it was from, but the fact that it had probably been written after a battle was like rubbing salt on a wound. 

Angrily she tore open the letter and read. 

_Dearest Ambassador,_

_I admire your boldness, I must ask, was it you who destroyed the Caralina de Firmin’s marriage using only four words and a glove at the right moment? You ultimately caused three divorces and a duel, and the resulting fallout forced me to alter my plans greatly. You should know that you saved your Inquisition. Had you not pulled off such a maneuver Orlais would have fallen to the Elder One that night. But I digress, that is the dance we are locked in. And you are a truly phenomenal dance partner._

_I see that your Commander still flounders to learn the steps, let alone understand the rhythm of our glorious dance. Your Spymaster it would seem has larger problems to deal with then our dance of death. Your Inquisitor remains a mystery to me, but what does that matter? Their partner is my master, and you are mine._

_I must admit that the implication of your letter, that I am unworthy of your slightest attentions, that I am a fumbling warlord only good for killing and lack any skill for the art of the Game did sting. I have decided to send you a gift in a sense. An ode to my admiration of your skills, and I admit with no regret, an opportunity to show off my own. While I doubt it will be as beautiful as anything you could create, I do hope you see it for what it is. You wish for a different kind of dance, very well I will switch dances, so long as you remain my partner._

_Yours_

Yours. Such a simple innocuous word and yet she could practically see the sarcasm of it dripping off the letter. The audacity! The brazenness! She had half a mind to burn this letter and all of the others. She could simply never respond to the General again and abandon them to this dance they seem so obsessed with playing out! 

She took a breath to steady herself, to calm her pounding heart. She would not destroy the letter, she couldn't, for when had she ever had such a unique adversary? They were playing different Games, one of war and battlefields and another of deception and favors. Josephine was unmatched when it came to the Game, there was a reason why she had climbed so high at such a young age. Finally she had found an equal, and now, both of them experts in their own fields, were using their skills to outmaneuver each other in the theater of war. Who would have thought that when she finally met her match, one who forced her to think of moves and countermoves in a way she has not had to in years, would come from a Cockroach! 

So unsuspecting, an annoying creature known only for their ability to survive literally anything. The knowledge thrilled Josephine in a way that nothing had before. She could not say for certain that she would be able to squash this opponent of hers. But that somehow made the situation all the more enticing. She hated how thrilled she was that this person had somehow managed to get under her skin, and she resolved to do the same to them. 

_My Dear Cockroach,_

_You are right in seeing my hand in the divorce of Caralina de Firmin and the subsequent fallout. To be fair, we really needed the money._

_I must admit, you are better at this Game then I initially gave you credit for, but you have still failed to impress me. Perhaps it is time that I looked elsewhere? I have heard rumors that the civil war between Celene, Gaspard and Briala is reaching a head. Perhaps I shall ask one of them to dance with me? The Grand Duke is a Chevalier after all, a man with far more honor and skill than you could ever hope to achieve._

_But perhaps not. Those players all have their own agendas, wish to be the masters of their own fate, and if there is anything I have learned from you, it is that a Cockroach is no master, only a nuisance._

_Yes, I think you should try to impress me, but I raise you this challenge, do so without the death or harm of a single person. Spill not one drop of blood. I ask this not because I am naive enough to ask that we fight a war with no death, but because I want to see if you are capable of delivering a blow to your enemy without a body count._

_Ambassador Montilyet_


	4. Chapter 4

_ My Dear Ambassador, _

_ It pains me to think that you do not read our letters with the same fervent judiciousness that I do. Do you not pour over every word? Consider their meaning and meaning again? It embrasses me to think that I am the only one who loses sleep over how I must compose my words into their appropriate sequence and you only skim them once and throw them away.  _

_ Dare I admit to you that I consume your words with the fervor of a man trapped in a desert finally given water? That to me they are perhaps more holy than the words of Andraste herself? Do I go too far in this admission of admiration?  _

_ You will see soon enough, though I ask you to reread my last correspondence more carefully. Tell me, Josephine, at what point in my letter did I say I would leave you a gift of death? _


	5. Chapter 5

Josephine stared at the document in front of her. It had to be a trick. An incredibly well thought out ingenious trick. Perhaps they were a forgery? Because the documentation sitting on her desk in front of her could not be real. One set of documents containing a contract on her life from the House Repose. A contract that was well over a century old. And another from Minister Bellise stating that her family could start trading in Orlais again. The destruction and irrelevance that her family had been slipping into was no longer a threat. Her family would survive- no, they would thrive!

She was astonished, the contract on her desk had not been destroyed, but negated. By the Du Paraquettes, a family that until today had fallen into commonality. Someone had taken the trouble to raise their standing back to nobility and then have them void the contract. 

Josephine took a deep breath to steady herself. There was only one person who could have done such a thing, who had promised her a gift, one of admiration. She knew no one else who could have done such a thing, would have had the resources, drive or time. If she was not so overwhelmed she would be angry that it had worked. This dance they did together, this Cockroach,  _ her _ Cockroach had drawn her in. 

_ My Dear, _

_ It is not often I am at a loss for words. Words are my currency and I am a master of them. To not know what to say would be the equivalent of you losing your sword hand. And yet- and yet here I sit, wordless and shocked at my desk in Skyhold. A contract on my life and the answer to my family's troubles sit before me. I wonder how long have you known this secret of mine? Did your spies hunt and scrounge through all manner of records to find this information on me? Or perhaps you had a contact in the House Repose who tipped you off?  _

_ Either way you have my utmost gratitude, I do not know how I could ever repay you for such a gift.  _

_ Through your elevation of the Du Paraquettes you have more than proved your skill at the Game. Whereas I expected you to spin and dip me in this dance of ours. You have surprised me by taking a step back and ending it with a flourish and a bow. A grand finale that I was unaware we were even barreling towards. This dance has ended and already another has begun. As this war drags on I fear our dances will only become more deadly, though, there is no other I would rather have as a partner.  _

_ I believe I also owe you an apology. It seems my last letter has led you to believe that I take no care of the words you so painstakingly craft for me. Let me be clear, it was my assumptions of who I believed you to be that caused me to presume what sort of move you would make next. Such an oversight on my part is deadly in the Game.  _

_ As a thank you for your honesty in your last letter, allow me to give you a truth of my own. I crave your letters, they excite me, each one offering a new puzzle and challenge for me to solve. Each one I read and reread, I gobble up the words and hide them away in my room where no one else will find them. I have no desire to share your words with others. They are mine and mine alone.  _

_ Tell me, my sweet warrior, if you claim that my words are more holy to you than Andrastes, where do you keep them?  _

_ I imagine you keep them stored away in a small box filled with mementos of your travels. Perhaps they keep the company of a ring from an old lover? A token of affection from an admirer? Or a toy from your childhood that you have been unable to part with?  _

_ I wonder… if in between the space that you wait for my words, do your thoughts turn to me the same way mine turn to you? _

_ With the utmost gratitude, _

_ Josephine Montilyet _


	6. Chapter 6

“I’m just wondering if that is such a good idea?” Josephine hedged.

Cullen scowled, dark circles under his eyes as he glared at her. “The walls of Adamant are nearly impenetrable. What do you suggest we use if not trebuchets?” Josephine winced and tried not to take his tone personally, the lyrium withdrawal he was going through was making the ex-templar more agitated usual. “Perhaps you could write the Warden-Commander a letter, maybe you can curry some favor with her and convince her to simply open the gates for us?” he all but snarled.

“That is enough Cullen. Josie makes a good point, we will have to expend a lot of resources to get the trebuchets into the desert and to the castle.” Leliana admonished. 

“We can get Ferelden to send some extra men to help us move them. Not that any of it will mean a damn if we can’t get the Orleasions to agree to allow us to travel through the country. How is _that_ going by the way?”

Josephine tried not to roll her eyes at Cullen’s condescending tone. “I was able to secure us invitations to the peace talks at the Winter Palace through the Grand Duke.” Josephine said giving a deferential nod to the Inquisitor. 

“Are you sure that is wise?” Cullen asked running a hand through his hair “He will expect us to support him, and if we do, he has no problem with Orleasion expansionism. He might eventually try and make a play for Ferelden.”

“Gaspard understands the Game as well as anyone else, he would not be so foolish to assume that our acceptance of his invitation means we have agreed to side with him. The invitation was to curry favor, nothing more.”

“Yes but-”

“Cullen, I suggest you focus on the trebuchets and allow me to do my job.” Josephine said shortly. “You have been losing ground and men, whoever leads Corypheus' armies is winning. If anyone's job performance is to be questioned here it is not mine.”

Cullen clenched his jaw and glowered “I think we’re done here.” He swept out of the war room slamming the door behind them.

“That was rather pointed… even for you.” Leliana said cautiously. 

“I am tired of him acting like my job is the one causing problems for us.” Josephine fumed. “He has been floundering for months, do you have any idea how many favors alone I had to call in just to get Lord Maurel to mobilize his forces in the Emerald Graves? We nearly lost the whole area because Cullen refused to allow Fairbanks to run point on any of the missions.”

“I know, it doesn't help that whoever is commanding Corypheus' armies is as ruthless as they are clever. I just got word that they burned the Exalted Plains near where the Dalish were camped. They were forced to flee or were killed by the fire. And all because they were supplying us with Rashvine Nettle and Royal Elfroot.”

Josephine tensed at this, not much was known about the General of Corypheus’ armies- _her_ General as she sometimes caught herself thinking. It occurred to Josephine yet again that she probably knew more about them than anyone else in the Inquisition currently did. Not that any of what she knew would help in the war effort. Not that she would be willing to share it. 

“I will talk to Cullen.” The Inquisitor offered, “good job getting the invitations Josie.”

With that final note the meeting was officially adjourned and the trio dispersed. Josephine returned to her desk to find a new stack of mail sitting on her desk. Her heart sped up as she quickly shuffled through the mail looking for one particular letter. She hadn’t heard from her Cockroach since she had gotten the contract and documentation for her family's trading, and that had been over two months ago. 

Finally, near the bottom of the stack she found the letter she was hoping for. The paper it was on was so nice it rivaled that of the letterhead the Grand Duke had used to extend his own invitations. She would have even mistaken it for his own writing if it had not been for the familiar blocky slanted scrawl. With shaking hands and a pounding heart, Josephine opened the letter. 

_My Dearest Josephine,_

_Please allow me to begin with my deepest apologies, as you are no doubt aware, you have been keeping me quite busy with your political maneuvers. I will admit some of them are so complex and convoluted that I cannot follow them. But I suppose that is the difference between a master and a novice in this Game. Your Commander continues to fail at mounting even the most basic attack. His struggles have not gone unnoticed by others in Orlais and Tevinter, were it not for the political miracles you have managed to pull off, your organization would have fallen long ago._

_Perhaps the rumors I have heard about the Commander going through lyrium withdrawal are true? I will admit to you that the thought of him struggling to form even the most coherent thought does bring me some pleasure. Many people have died because of him, mostly on your side it would seem. Did you know that he is part of the reason the mage war even started? That it was his own neglect to his charges that helped fuel the fires of rebellion?_

_But I digress, I did not write to you to complain about Cullen Rutherford. I do enough of that to my own men._

_It has been brought to my attention that you will be attending the peace talks at the Winter Place. I hope you will be excited, but unsurprised to learn that I will also be in attendance. Perhaps you will save me a dance?_

_I must admit I was thrilled to hear of your presence. Finally I will see your face, something that has plagued me since we started this little dance of ours. It has been said that your beauty is unparalleled. A Ravani Prince professed that the Maker himself blessed your face. I wish to look upon such beauty, war is such an ugly business. Of course with that also comes a deep anxiety, what would you think of a face such as mine? A face that has seen battles and death and suffering. A face not without its scars. Would I horrify you? Would you be repulsed to see such ugliness carved across my face? There was a time in my youth I was told I was attractive, but that time has long since passed. I know now that true beauty is in your words._

_I found your musings of a box of momentos a fun, but ultimately inaccurate fantasy. My childhood has long been abandoned and I have no wish to return to it, as suffocating as it was. There are no admirers for me to speak, and the same goes for an ex lover. I wonder though, if there had been, would you be jealous? That if your letters were kept in the same box as a ring from another who might have once held my heart. Would you envy the lover who once had me? Or the fact that I still kept the ring?_

_You have nothing to fear my Ambassador, and no need to be jealous. Your letters are not kept in a box far away from me on my travels waiting to be filled with your next correspondence. I traded with a Dalish hunter some rare herbs and seeds for a small waterproof animal skin bag. I store the bag in my armour over my heart. If anyone wished to take them away from me they would have to kill me first. I told you, your words are more holy than Andraste’s, like_ _Shartan_ _, I will die before someone takes them from me._

_It is with great anticipation that I write this next sentence._

_I will see you soon._


	7. Chapter 7

Josephine cast wildly around the ballroom once more. She was doing her best not to be obvious, but it was impossible. The General of Corypheus' army was here. The rest of the group knew of course, information such as that is not something Josephine would keep to herself. Although she did fail to mention how she came across such knowledge. She was not going to relinquish the letters anytime soon. 

Josephine highly doubted she would be seeing their face at this event, it was an Orlesian ball after all, masks were fairly standard. She couldn't help but search the eyes of every finely dressed noble she came across. Somehow convinced that she would recognize them no matter their gender or clothing, just by looking them in their eyes. A foolish thought of course, and one that she needed to get under control, Yevette had been making fun of her all evening for her slightly skittish nature. 

The night was drawing to an end all of the events leading to this one defining moment. The Inquisitor had danced with Grand Duchess Florianne, had played the Game as well as they could given the situation and their lack of experience with the Orleasions. And still there was no sign of the General. It had been decided that Gaspard would be the one the Inquisition would throw their weight behind. He was also a warrior and tactician; he recognized the need to defeat their common enemy of Corypheus. Leliana also believed that he would be the easiest to manipulate in the long run. Celene was too clever and Briala to radicle. Gaspard was their best bet. 

Josephine watched the Grand Duke, surrounded by his Chevaliers- now the Emperor. His cousin arrested, and Briala cast out, he stood above everyone and gave his speech of unity and revenge. Josephine couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach. The Cockroach had promised a dance, and yet she had seen no sign of them. 

As his speech drew to an end and the nobles cheered it was then that it happened. So fast that Josephine would have thought she had imagined it if not for the look of shock on the Inquisitors face. One of the Chevaliers standing behind the new Emperor, one of his own men, drew their sword and plunged it through his back. Before anyone had any time to react, before the fallen Emperor had even hit the floor, the Chevalier was already out of the room and out of sight. 

Josephine only felt numbness, everyone around her reacted with shock and panic. All she could do was stare dazed as the Inquisitor held the Emperor's lifeless body with a shocked and confused look on their face. All that work, all that effort of negotiating and moves and countermoves, all of it undone by a single blade through the heart.


	8. Chapter 8

_ Twice now you have rendered me at a loss for words. There shall not be a third.  _

_ Even I can admit the genius of your strategy, Cockroach. You waited for us to pick our ally, to burn our other bridges and then you struck him down. Celene lives and she shall return to her place on the sunburst throne, but she shall never trust us in the Inquisition. We are lucky that she needs us, that she knows the survival of her reign and country outweighs this betrayal. I fear what will happen to us once this is all said and done. She will not forget, and she will not forgive.  _

_ Up until that night I have been having difficulty reconciling the one who would write me such sweet words with one who would burn the plains that the Dalish lived on just to punish them for seeking aid from us. You, who made me feel valued and seen. Who pretended to understand my efforts and struggle, but now I see it for what it really was. Not a dance but a Game, a brilliantly played one at that, but a Game nonetheless.  _

_ Whatever scars that might mar your face are not what make you a monster, it is your ruthless murder of innocents that makes you one.  _

_ Watch yourself General Cockroach, it's only a matter of time before you are squashed. _


	9. Chapter 9

_ Dear Ambassador, _

_ There seems to be some mistake, I did not burn the Exalted Plains to punish the Dalish for choosing the Inquisition. I am strategic and I will do what must be done to win this war, but I am not cruel nor am I wasteful. If the plains were burned this was done without my knowledge or authorisation. Please know that I will personally deal with those responsible.  _

_ Let me be clear on one other thing, this dance we share, spinning around and around each other as others do the same. It is not a Game, it is real. I wrote to you when this all started so long ago because I admired your skills and your tenacity. You are clever and brilliant, your mind a rarity that I have so enjoyed engaging with. I see you, I crave you, and above all I desire you. In the moments between your next letter I can hardly breath, it is only when you give me your words, your new words on such lovely parchment in such beautiful handwriting, that I am given breath.  _

_ These are facts, not moves and countermoves in our dance. Were things different, were I not bound to that which I serve, I would be with you. Alas this world is as imperfect as it is unfair. It is perhaps the greatest tragedy that I cannot be with you. Forced instead to stand across a long elegant ballroom, watching as you look about for me, dismissing potential suitors from all sides in hopes to even catch a glimpse of my face. I wonder, if you had not been so busy looking at the guests and instead looking at the guards if you would have seen me? No, I think not, I was trained as a Chevalier, I know how to walk and move like one. I blended in just as well as any of them. Still, I will imagine that you will have seen me, and perhaps- perhaps you would know me.  _

_ Regardless I do not expect to hear from you again, the fire in the words of your last letter was so hot I nearly burned my hand. But I will leave you with this gift. This word of who I am, I am all but forgotten in this world, even if you or your Spymaster looked, you would not find me.  _

_ If you cannot believe the words of this letter I beg that you believe the words of this. This one fact, this one singular truth. For it would pain me more than anything else I have endured in this world to know you believed them false.  _

_ I am now, and until my last breath, yours. _

_ Neerah _


	10. Chapter 10

Josephine clenched and unclenched her jaw rereading the last letter that had been sent to her for what felt like the hundredth time. Since that letter, Cockroach- no,  _ Neerah _ had not sent another one, just as promised. Josephine could not help but be furious. How could she? Josephine was sure Neerah was a she, write something like that and be content to leave things there? How could she just declare herself, so simply and overtly and somehow be at peace that Josephine would never write back? That Josephine wasn’t feeling the same things, that she didn’t crave her the same way. She had never been so conflicted in her life. 

Josephine could forgive the murder of Gaspard, it was an admittedly brilliant move in the Game. One that dealt a massive blow to the Inquisition. But ultimately it was something they could come back from. Despite losing ground to the enemy, they had made gains, she had weakened their enemies foothold in Tevinter and Nevarra and had even managed to strengthen relations with some of the Orlesians. Celene was helpful for now, and as long as Josephine and Leliana were able to keep her power dependent on the Inquisitions success she would not make a move against them. 

It was the harming of innocents that kept her conflicted. Neerah claimed to not be cruel or wasteful. She believed that. She claimed to not have had any knowledge that the plains were burned to punish the Dalish. And Josephine found that she also believed that. Or at least she wanted to. Someone who had gone through all of the effort to void a contract with the House Repose, to raise the Du Paraquettes to lordship, without spilling a single drop of blood at that, would not senselessly murder the Dalish. Someone was lying, and it was either Neerah or someone whom she worked for, someone who wanted to keep her in the dark. It occurred to Josephine that Neerah might not know who Corypheus really is, he claimed to be a living god, that the Maker was a lie. Perhaps that was the story she had been fed to? 

There was only one way to find out, and Josephine found herself wondering if it was really wise to do such a thing. Perhaps she should turn over all of the letters to Leliana and let her figure the whole thing out. Josephine found that thought pained her more than almost anything else. Those letters were for her, those words were for her, to allow anyone else to read them felt wrong. 

“If you stare at that letter any longer you are going to burn a hole through it.”

Josephine jumped, startled, she hadn't even heard Leliana come into the room. “I- I apologise, I’ve had a lot on my mind.” Josephine said quietly, folding the letter back up and putting it away. She didn’t want Leliana to see its contents. 

“Is this about what happened at the Winter Palace? You’ve been quieter ever since we returned. You know it is not your fault, no one could have predicted that the assassin was one of the Chevaliers. Whoever they were, they were one of Gaspard’s own men. That was on him for being too trusting. He knows the Game and he knows the risks. It was a foolish mistake.”

“No, it’s not that.”Josephine paused trying to think about how to word her problem in such a way that nothing would be given away. “I recently… made a friend.” 

“Oh” Leliana said, her eyebrow quirking and a look of interest spreading across her face. “And where did you meet this friend? At the Palace?”

“No, it’s been over letters, they're a dignitary of sorts, but their alliances are often hard to pin down. Sometimes they feel like a friend, sometimes an enemy and sometimes… more.” Josephine trailed off, unsure and afraid of revealing too much.

Leliana frowned as she processed Josephine’s words. “You like them?” Josephine could only nod mutely. “Sounds like a classic Orlesian.” Leliana said with a chuckle.

Josephine frowned. She realised that she didn't even know where Neerah was from, although it would make sense that she was Orlesian, she said she had been trained as a Chevalier after all. “I’m not sure if I should continue correspondence with them.” she admitted. 

“You make it sound so clinical Josie. It’s romance, it should be passionate and honest. If you like them go for it. I want you to be happy.”   
  
“Even if they might not be aligned with our interests?”

Leliana shrugged at that. “If they’re talking to you they are probably more aligned then you realise. And if not, and they hurt you I will have them killed. Simple as that.”

Josephine chuckled weakly at her statement. “I suppose it is.”

“I have a meeting with the Inquisitor.” Leliana said standing up “I will see you at dinner, yes?”

Josephine nodded and watched her friend go. Turning her words over in her mind. Could Neerah be more aligned then she thought? Maybe was, or would be if she knew the truth of her master…

_ Neerah, _

_ I turn this name over and over, I whisper it against your letters so that I might feel what it tastes like on my lips. Do your men know your name? Or is it a secret? One that only you and I now share. In the same moments that I whisper your name alone in the darkness of my room I wonder what my name would sound like falling from your lips. I assume you are Orlesian, and that my name will have an almost musical lilt to it. Like a song, I wonder how I could get you to sing my name over and over. _

_ I will admit I am a sore loser, until now we have played games of moves and countermoves, if there is a loss in the Inquisition it has been because Cullen’s lack of experience has led to it. This is, I think the first time I have lost our Game. And how it has infuriated me so! You serve a merchant of evil and an architect of destruction. I wonder, do you know who he really is? He is not a god, just an angry relic, an angry old man who has fallen into irrelevancy, who struggles with every ounce of his being to remain germain to our world. Would you still serve him knowing this? Could I still bear to write you knowing that you do not care? I think that more than anything would break my heart.  _

_ In the same breath I consider this to be a truth, I believe that I could hate you, but on the exhale of this fact I know it could not come to fruition. You see me, you hear me, you desire me. And knowing these truths how could I be anything other than yours? _

_ Josephine _


	11. Chapter 11

Josephine paced the crows nest of Skyhold, her skin felt like it was buzzing. She could not remember a time where she had felt more stressed in her life, or a time where Leliana had seemed more serene. They awaited news from the front, the messages they had received indicating that the attack on Adamant would happen tonight, had probably already begun. All they could do was wait and agonize over whether or not the Inquisitor would be successful in freeing the Wardens from the thrall of Corypheus. 

“You’re going to wear a hole through the planks Josie. Just sit back and drink some tea. There is nothing we can do but wait.” Leliana said, examining the tea cup in front of her. 

Josephine sighed and was about to respond when a caw sounded and a raven flew through the open window. Leliana bolted from her spot and rushed to the bird. So much for calming tea, Josephine snorted. Leliana pulled off the letter and examined it. 

“It is for you.” The Spymaster said, holding out the envelope. 

Cautiously Josephine took the letter from Leliana, her eyes widened as she recognised the handwriting, Neerah. “I um- this is personal” Josephine started, unwilling to read the letter in front of Leliana, but dying to know the contents inside. 

“All right,” Leliana said rolling her eyes good naturedly, “I’ll go down to the kitchens and get us some food, you stay here and wait for news from the Inquisition. Enjoy your smut.” Leliana said with a laugh as she sailed out of the room. Josephine sputtered as she tried to defend that she had not in fact been sent a dirty letter. 

Leliana’s footsteps had barely faded before Josephine was tearing into the letter with shaking hands. 

_ Mine _

_ Mine, has there ever been a word so sweet? I can think of a few, all four letters and all succinct. But perhaps there is only one word that stands in comparison to the one you have sent me. This Mine I will treasure until my last breath. I will carry it with the rest of your words but make no mistake, that I held your last letter so close to my chest I thought I might absorb it. This Mine will be a brand on my skin and I will consume it, devour it with as much fervor as I wish to do to you my brilliant beautiful Ambassador. Did I tell you? When I saw you that night at the Winter Palace you stole my breath away, you steal it again now with these four little letters. M I N E. Has anything ever tasted so sweet?  _

_ If you are Mine then you must know beyond all doubt that I am yours. Yours. Y O U R S. I will be yours when the Maker comes to claim us, when the oceans dry up, and the Dales burn and turn to ash. Yours.  _

_ Soon I will do battle with your Inquisition, your leaders will finally see my prowess with a sword, instead of just hearing of my skills in tactical maneuvering. You asked me questions about my knowledge and allegiance in your last letter, I will not answer them in this one. I will not taint the gravity, the beauty of your Mine with my reasons for allegiance. No, you will receive another letter from me, after this battle is done and over, explaining everything. And if I fall in battle, which is highly unlikely, although not impossible. Then I will die knowing you are Mine, and you will live knowing that I was Yours.  _

_ Either way, you will be receiving another gift from me, a snake among men. I apologize in advance, blood will have to be spilled for this gift, and deaths will be dealt for it to. But this is a gift for you, although your Inquisitor will never know I was the architect of such an offering. Know that it is Yours.  _

_ With all my heart, Yours _

_ Neerah _


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to everyone who has been leaving such lovely comments on my story. It means a lot to me!  
> Enjoy the chapter!

It was three days before she got her next letter. Josephine would have been annoyed at having to wait, but things were evolving rapidly. The Inquisitor had gone into the Fade, _again_. And had come back out, although not without losses. Apparently it had been Divine Justinia and not Andraste that had been seen behind the Inquisitor when they emerged the first time at Haven. A fact that she was expending a lot of energy and resources to keep under wraps. Warden-Commander Clarel had died in the ensuing battle, killed by Corypheus’ dragon. But Livius Erimond had been captured not long after the Wardens had aligned themselves with the Inquisition. It was safe to say the Inquisition had a firm win. Corypheus’ army had been beaten back and the Warden’s were free of demons. 

A pile of letters were brought to her after lunch, the one from Neerah sitting at the top, thicker than any of the other letters she had sent her over the course of their correspondence. Taunting her with the answers contained inside, ones she could not discover until later that night. There was no way she’d be able to read them now, there was too much to do, too many lords and counts to appease, favors to call in or deal out. No, tonight in her room she would sink into Neerah’s words. 

Despite her resilience the day seemed to drag on for twice as long as it usually did. It wasn’t until it was the early hours of the morning that she was able to crawl into bed, light a candle and read the letter. 

_My Heart,_

_I live to fight another day. Does this knowledge fill you with relief? Was it regretful anxiety that you felt upon seeing my letter? Life would probably have been made easier if I had died on the battlefield far away from you, our secrets tucked away in my breastplate. Hidden from the world for only the crows who come to pick at my flesh to find. But alas I could not leave this world, not while knowing that you are mine. I am, as my soldiers whisper around the fire late at night when they think I can’t hear, a 'selfish bitch.' It does not matter, I am yours._

_Did you get my gift? That snake Livius Erimond. He was the one who ordered the Dales to be burned as punishment for helping the Inquisition. He was unfortunately too valuable to my master for me to do anything to him directly. But I made sure that he would fall during the battle, and that your Commander’s men would find him._

_Speaking of your Commander, I saw him in person on the field, from a distance of course. Although for a moment I was not sure if it was a man fighting or a lion. His helmet is ridiculous. Are you sure he is not Orlesian? They do so love their lions._

_Enough rambling, I can no longer put off answering your questions, I only ask that you read everything until the end. I will not ask you to forgive or absolve me of anything. I know what I am and I know my choices. I ask not of your forgiveness, and I understand if after reading this you will no longer wish to be mine. Just know I will always be yours._

_I will start with the easy answer first, I am not Orlesian, although I can understand why you would think I was. I was trained to be a Chevalier, but that is a story for another time. My accent is not the liting song of an Orlesian, not the posh trill of an Tevinterian, nor is it the rough timbre of a Fereldener. It is the flat tone of a Free Marcher. Are you surprised? Disappointed even? I fear your name on my tongue will never be a beautiful song, but the flat huff of a monotone tune._

_As for my name, few know it, even fewer know who I was and can connect it to who I am. I am sorry my Ambassador, but I will not give you this connection. For now my identity remains with me._

_And finally, you asked me if I knew my master was not a god, but an old man who plays at godhood. The short answer is yes, of course I know who he is, I know this as well as I know what he wants to do. The Elder One wishes to unmake the world and in doing so make it again in his image. You are probably asking yourself now how could someone follow a monster such as this, a madman set on ending our existence. I am afraid my answer is terribly simple and not particularly satisfying: I do not care._

_I have fought in wars and seen horrors I will never be able to forget, but this is not the source of my apathy. I am a criminal, perhaps now more so then I was before. There was a time where I was wrongly convicted of killing my own men, framed by another. I was going to be put to death, publicly, shamefully. Abandoned by my mentor who believed that I had committed the crimes I was accused of. Were it not for the clout of my family I would most surely be dead._

_Death would have been a more preferable option to what followed. I was sent back home to the charge of my family. A family I have not seen for years. In my youth I ran away from home, from a marriage I did not want to a man I would rather die than be with. I fancied myself something of a warrior, I know now I was just an idealistic child with a rapier. Still, I was determined, I believed I would join the Grey Wardens, become a hero and live my life how I chose._

_But I was too late. By the time I crossed the Waking Sea and arrived at Ostagar the Wardens were dead, the Blight had begun and Ferelden was without leadership. I was lost and directionless and with nowhere to go I decided to return home. Who else would take me? I had been told all my life I had nothing to offer this world besides a strategic marriage and babies._

_I was near the border of Orlais and Ferelden when it happened. I remember it was raining, the Free Marches are somehow a more mild climate to that of Ferelden. It was dusk and I had made camp when a group of bandits came across me. Of course I was an easy target, a young woman not particularly intimidating, and considered by many to be attractive. When I put up a fight they had their mabari attack me. Try to imagine a massive warhound over one hundred pounds of pure muscle mauling me as I choked on mud, my face permanently scarred and left for dead by this beast’s violent actions. Had it not been for the grace of a nearby traveler who intervened, I would be dead._

_I was never the same after that night, physically and mentally. For I had learned what fear was from an animal that could not be reasoned with. The only true fear I have ever known is at the maw of a mabari war hound. The rest of the world can burn to a crisp so long as it means I can avoid those creatures._

_I tell you this because it was perhaps one of, if not the single most defining moment of my life. It is in fact why I find myself in my current situation. Bound to a madman who I may not agree with, but have no desire to stop. Why should I? He wants to burn the world, I say let him try._

_But I digress, and my story is not over, not yet. My family came to claim me after my false charges. They spirited me away to their home, away from prying eyes where I could no longer do anymore damage to the family name. It was there that they put me through my own personal hell. I do not know even now if it was intentional or not, but it was the perfectly sublime_ torture _that has pushed me to my current attitudes._

_My uncle is a hunter, and he favors the Orlesian style of hunting with dogs. A mabari requires too much upkeep, but a couple dozen hounds, well that’s easy to take care of. Instead of keeping me locked in a room in the house, my family figured it would be more appropriate to keep me trapped in the catacombs under the mansion. Locked in a cage made for a mabari I so feared, surrounded by dozens of other cages, each one containing a dog. I wanted to die, I tried to die. Their constant howling and barking and whining… each sound made me relive the attack I faced as a young woman. Each one reminded me of what it felt like to be defenseless, powerless, alone. I would have given anything to be free. I would have sold my soul to Maferath the Betrayer if it meant I could get away from those animals._

_Finally my salvation came one night, in the form a twisted warped figure that was too tall to be any normal man. The hounds panicked, howling and snarling banging on their cages to get away from this monster. With the snap of his fingers he silenced my tormentors. He made me an offer, serve him, win him this war, and I shall have my freedom, in what little time remains in this world and the chance to prosper in his new one._

_After all that I had been through, months living in a cage in darkness surrounded by that which scared me most- you must understand Josephine. I was tired of feeling fear, I didn’t care what happened to this world. He could burn it to the world and remake it however he saw fit, so long as I was free of those dogs and my cage, I did not care._

_I apologise, I do not wish to break your heart, but the reality of the situation is laid out for you, and I cannot hide the truth. I know exactly who Corypheus is, I know exactly what he wishes to do with the world, and I- I do not care._

_I will of course understand if you wish to be rid of me, to wash your hands of me and be done. I will not fault you for such a thing. I know what I am, I do what I must. I wish the world was different, I wish it had been you that had offered me salvation in my darkest moment, that it was you who pulled me from the abyss and not him. I follow him because I must. But you- you I would follow blindly, gladly, your willing protector ready to defend you from your enemies and readily die for you if I must. I will only ever begrudgingly die for the will that is Corypheus._

_As always I am yours,_

_Neerah_

Josephine stared at the letter reading and rereading the words, absorbing the story she had just been privy to. It was only when the first few drops landed on the paper that she realised she was crying. She wiped them away as she tried to contain a sob. She also wished that she had been the one to find Neerah first. To save her from her torment and show her that there were reasons to live, that things could be better and that allowing the world to burn was not the answer. 

How do you put such a feeling into words? Something so complicated could not simply be put on some paper and sent away. Not for the first time she wished Neerah was here with her. So she could look in her eyes and make her understand. The world could be better. They could have made it better together. 


	13. Chapter 13

It took her a few days to find the right words to send to Neerah. Five days to be exact, usually her responses came easily and quickly. Care taken with each word but always within reach and always easy to find. Finally Josephine could no longer wait, she decided, perhaps in this case, less was more. 

_ The world may never forgive you for what you have done. But I understand why you did it and I do not fault you for it.  _

_ You are still mine.  _

_ And I am still yours _


	14. Chapter 14

“Thank the Maker, we finally got something.”

Josephine eyed Cullen warily as he brandished a letter in his hand. 

“And what, dear Commander, do you think you have?” Vivienne asked barely containing her eyeroll. She had joined Josephine for afternoon tea as she was occasionally wont to do. 

“The General, or the Cockroach. I was finally able to get something on him. An old friend of mine joined the Free March army after the Mage rebellion broke out. Apparently there was a fire, and most of their records were destroyed, but there was a reference to a General often referred to as the Cockroach. Apparently they were incredibly resilient. Should have died half a dozen times, and more than a few attempts made by his own men. Ha, maybe if we just let this play out the Red Templars will kill him for us.” Cullen said with a chuckle. 

Josephine frowned at that, the idea of Neerah dying was such an abstract thought. That one of her own men would want to do so even more strange. But of course Cullen still assumed Neerah was a man. The two of them really were disconnected. 

“This sounds like information we already know, or could just be gleaned from our own reports.” Josephine mushed. 

“Most of it yes, but the fact that this Cockroach person was in an army and held a rank. That is good. Leliana might be able to find something more about him. A name or a weakness. Maybe even a beloved family member. We could use this. Josephine you should reach out to any contact you think might be of help as well. I want his name.”

“Very well,” Josephine said with a sigh as she pulled out a new piece of paper “I am sorry Lady Vivienne, I’m afraid I must cut our tea short.”

“Of course darling, I will leave you to it.” With that the First Enchanter swept out of the room, Cullen only a few steps behind her.

Josephine let out a sigh and pulled out the letter she had been keeping tucked in her drawer. It had arrived earlier that day. She was going to wait until the evening to read it, but with Cullen closing in, or at least circling the problem, it would probably be better to write to warn Neerah now.

_ My Dear Josephine, _

_ How is it you continue to steal the breath from my lungs? Such a short sentence, only a few words really, and yet they have knocked the wind from me. What you gave me in your last letter is more than I could have ever imagined. I expected to never hear from you again. For you to be appalled by my weakness and apathy. But no, instead you empathised. And somehow you still want me, despite knowing all that you do, you still care. You have given me the greatest gift possible.  _

_ I apologise for the length it took me to send you this letter, and that there is not more to talk about. My master is unhappy with my failure to secure the Wardens. I’m sure you know we have been losing some ground to the Inquisition. It would seem that since our last correspondence that my heart is just not in it. Not like it once was. I supposed selfishly I have come to realise that if this world burns, then you will burn with it. And I find that thought becoming more and more unacceptable.  _

_ Take care my heart, _

_ Neerah _

_ Neerah, _

_ I fear I must warn you, Cullen closes in, he hopes that by knowing your name he will find a weakness. As of now he knows you served in the Free March army, but beyond that not much more. Funnily enough he has assumed you are a man. I hope to see his face when he finds out you are a woman. He has also found rumors that during your previous command there were attempts on your life. I do not know how true these are. I hope they are not, I know you, and I find it hard to believe anyone who knows you would want you dead. But I am of course compromised.  _

_ I do not wish to see you hurt, I cannot even dwell on the thought it causes me such agony. I am acutely aware that I wish to make anyone who has caused you harm pay dearly for such a mistake. Your family, those that betrayed you, anyone who sought to punish you, I would like to see them suffer. You are mine, and I do not like it when people touch what is mine. _

_ Be careful my darling. The secret of your true identity might not be yours for much longer. _


	15. Chapter 15

_Josephine,_

_Have I ever told you the pain I endured that night at the Winter Palace? I do not mean something so banal as a physical injury. Shockingly, I was able to complete my mission relatively unscathed. A testament perhaps to my skills, or maybe evidence to your overconfidence in the success of your mission?_

_It was not a physical pain that I suffered that night but an emotional one, a carnal one. I saw you the moment you entered the Vestibule of the Place, wearing that ridiculous outfit that made you all look like toy soldiers. Did your Commander choose those outfits? They were terrible. And yet you made it look otherworldly. Never in my life had I envied a pair of trousers, what I would have given to be the one wrapped around your legs. Beyond my haze of jealousy, I find my thoughts constantly returning to the question that has plagued me since I have seen you. Your smell, do you smell of ink and parchment and the crisp mountain air that you take your refuge in? Or do you smell of the salty sea and spices from Antiva?_

_I would not allow myself to come near you that night, partially out of fear that you might look upon my masked face and know my soul. But also because I feared that if I came too close I would not be able to leave your side. That I, like your smell, would have had no other choice but to become a permanent part of you. I wish nothing more than to sink into you, to know your touch and have you know mine. To make you sing my name over and over again. The next day the sun would rise on us, waking you with its gentle touch, your muscles would ache so deliciously from our activities from the night before. And I would have you again. And again. And again._

_Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps the most beautiful words are five letters long and not four. Again, yours, dance, such wonderful words we give each other. There is perhaps one four letter word I yearn (another five letters, ha!) to give you above all, but I fear it would be my undoing. Would you even want this word, this pledge, this small act of rebellion against my master?_

_Yes, I think it was best I stayed away from you that night. Even then I would have whispered it against your skin over and over like the holy chant. Andraste herself would have flushed with the passion of my four letters. The Maker would have turned away, for what we would have created that night is only for us._

_Yours,_

_Neerah_

Josephine stared at the page in front of her with wide eyes, jaw dropped in shock. The boldness with which Neerah laid out her declaration! Josephine was embarrassed to admit how much just a few short paragraphs could arouse her. She bit her lip, flushed, leaning back in her bed and contemplating her libretto. A wet desire between her legs that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore the longer she looked over her newest letter. 

She allowed her mind to wander, not for the first time to what Neerah might look like. She imagined someone older, perhaps in their late forties or early fifties. Greying hair and crows feet around her eyes, perhaps laugh lines around her mouth beckoning to be brought to life with an amusing parable. Such a proficient warrior, and at such a high rank would have to have the experience to back it up. An age difference that would not be considered entirely appropriate, but then again what about their relationship was? 

Almost unconsciously the hand not holding her letter dragged lower under the mountain of sheets to her centre. She sucked in a sharp breath when she finally made contact with the heat. She was always cold in the mountains, she wondered if Neerah would be warmer? She claimed to be from the Free Marches, a climate notoriously colder than Antiva. Her love would have to run a little hot, or very hot, like a furnace. Would her touch burn? Neerah would undoubtedly make it her mission to keep Josephine warm were she here. She imagined her General would smell of steel, and freshly cut grass and something uniquely Neerah. An erotic combination to be sure. 

Her breaths came in shorter, faster bursts as her hand sped up. She imagined Neerah would be close, her face buried in the crook of Josephine’s neck, breathing her in as her hands worked to bring Josephine to completion. Neerah would be an attentive lover, of that there would be no doubt. Not like the others Josephine had taken in the past. A passing fancy or a distant burst of passion during her schooling, brought together to relieve the shared stress of the art of negotiation. No, Neerah would give her everything she pleased and more. She would do it gladly, eagerly, and with a level of devotion that would make even the next Divine envious. Instead of the prayers for Andraste it would be her expressions of love whispered on her skin, branded there forever. And it would be Neerah’s name that would be chanted over and over until everyone knew Josephine’s fidelity. 

It was with that thought that Josephine came, her body snapping, her back bowing and arching as her release rolled through her, wave after wave, this time not a four letter word or a five letter one that brought her such unique joy and pleasure, but a six letter word: Neerah. Perhaps the greatest sequence that any six letters have been arranged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick Author's Note: I didn't spell libido wrong, libretto means a text of a long vocal work. A kind of sub theme in this story is words that can have two meanings depending on context or words that are spelled similarly but have different means. 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone who has been reading the story!


	16. Chapter 16

_My General,_

_My Love,_

_My Neerah,_

_Sometimes your words are so sweet, they ache. That is what you are to me now, an ache. One that only you can satisfy, but our circumstances have conspired to never let that happen. You worry I will not want your four letter word, but let me be clear you have already given me a much sweater one, one that is six letters and not four. Neerah, perhaps the most encompassing word of all._

_Shall I admit to you that after your last letter I brought myself to completion? With thoughts of you running through my head. I imagine you to be an attentive lover, one who would obsessively seek my own pleasure, any thought of your own long abandoned. I write this letter in the early hours after I sought my release to the fantasy of your hands not once but twice. I want more. I crave more. I do not know how long it will take for this letter to find you, but know that it was not the first time I touched myself and allowed my thoughts to drift to you, nor will it be my last._

_You have ruined me, and yet you have never touched me, I have never seen you but you have seen me. How can I forgive that? I think I will die a spinster now, toiling away at my work waiting not for the day the Maker welcomes me to his bosom, but for the night you will finally hold me in your arms._

_Did you know this would happen? Was that why you wrote me so long ago? Was that your mission? If so I applaud you. For you have succeeded. What we have created together is more beautiful than anything else in this world. And it is only for us. I suppose I should thank you for that. But no, I think it is only fair you share in the unique suffering I face every day. You will know how I feel about you, and yet you chose to remain apart from me. We are meant to be together, and each day divorced of you is its own punishment. A punishment we must both endure silently together, but still apart. I suppose this is what happens when one falls for the enemy._

_So I will give you this gift, or perhaps curse. Either way I know we share it together, this endless dance, these four letters that bind us together._

_I love you._


	17. Chapter 17

_ And so I have been undone.  _

_ My Love _

_ My Heart _

_ My Josephine _

_ What I would not give to sink into your arms and know your touch. I would give anything, I would fight armies and set the world one fire and let bur- no. No. I will not do that, is that no why we are in this situation?  _

_ I think I would flood the world for you, I would drown in an ocean of you. I would thank you and ask for more. Would you let me? Oh my love, would you let me drown in you?  _

_ I love you. _

_ I. Love. You. _

_ That was eight letters, just one more l can create a word just as sweet and beautiful. Josephine. Nine letters, how I beg them, in the darkness of my tent on whatever front I must fight in this nuisance of a war. I breathe your letters, I trap them in my lungs and try to steal back the breath that you have stolen from me. It doesn't matter. Everything that I am is yours. _

_ How cruel the Maker is to give me one such as you and keep us apart. How I wish I could go to you, but I can no more abandon this army than you could yours. When I wrote to you so long ago I had no idea this would be the outcome of our correspondence, I sought to taunt you, anger you into making a costly mistake. Yet it would seem that I was the one who made such a grave mistake. Please forgive me for loving you so. I no longer know who I am if it is not without my love for you.  _

_ Yours, _

_ Neerah _


	18. Chapter 18

“We leave in three days, I have already sent word ahead to our allies to prepare for our arrival. The Empress has insisted that she will meet us in person in the Wilds.” Cullen said, looking over the map before them.

“You leave so soon? The invasion of the Arbor Wilds is not to happen for two more weeks.” Josephine said, looking surprised. 

“We need the time to move all the men and equipment. Constructing the trebuchets will take some time as well.” 

“You’re… You're going to build trebuchets for an assault on an ancient elven temple in a forest? Will you even be able to see where the enemy is to fire at them?” Josephine asked bewildered. Neerah was right, trebuchets were not the answer to everything. 

“Let me focus on the troops and you deal with the Empress.” Cullen bristled. 

“What do you mean Commander?” 

“He means Josie, that you will be coming with us. Our relations with the Empress are barely passable and we will need you there to smooth things over if something happens. Do not worry” Leliana comforted “You will be far back behind our lines, you will be safe.”

Josephine nodded numbly as she stared at the map before them. She remembered one of Neerah’s first letters asking if she had ever been on a battlefield after everything was said and done. If the smell of blood would choke her. It would seem that she will soon find out. 

The meeting adjourned shortly after, she rushed to her desk and pulled out some letterhead. She must write Neerah, let her know that she will finally have an answer to her question.

_ My Dearest, _

_ I been informed that I will be joining the Inquisitor on the warfront in the Arbor Wilds. We mean to foil your masters plans to enter the Temple of Mythal. I will be behind the lines, far away from the fighting, but I must admit I am afraid. I abhor senseless violence and what is more senseless than war?  _

_ I do not know if you will be there, it seems likely, word has it that a majority of Corypheus' army is making their way to the wilds. The Inquisition has called in all our favors, I fear you are about to have many new dance partners. None of which are me. I ask that you be careful. I cannot bare to lose you. _

_ All my love, _

_ Josephine _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not writing more chapters, I'm just gay and dyselxic which apparently means I can't count properly.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

_ And so our final dance draws to its end. What else is there to say? Other than I love you. _


	20. Chapter 20

This battle was not what Josephine had expected, it was louder than she thought it would be. The clang of metal on metal echoing through the forest with an almost eerie groan. The screams of men and women dying reverberating off of the ancient trees in the forest. A forest swarming with Red Templars and elves. 

The battle was going more in the Inquisitions favor than Josephine had anticipated. And she knew that she was not the only one surprised by this. Leliana had expressed her own incredulity over breakfast that very morning. It would seem that the Commander had finally found his rhythm in the dance of war. Nothing was going according to plan for the enemies forces, their tents were clumped together allowing the scouts to burn their lodging and supplies. Their forces were erratic and unorganised, allowing the Chevaliers and the Inquisition troops to easily smash through them. It would seem that the Cockroach was finally to be squashed. 

When the enemy broke through their lines that afternoon it was completely unexpected, as were their attackers. It was not the hulking Red Templars as everyone had been vigilantly watching for. But the impossibly fast and near invisible elves who broke their lines. Josephine watched in horror as men were seemingly cut down out of nowhere around her. Horns started to sound their retreat, the Chevaliers pulled rank closing in to protect her and the Empress.

The Chevaliers did their best to hold off the elves, standing their ground longer than any of the other Inquisition troops with them could manage. But they were unused to fighting such a fast foe and eventually their defense broke. The men scattered, dragging Celene with them, she was of course the priority, she was Orlais. Her men lived and died by her. 

Josephine ran close behind the men as they fought off their invisible assassins. For a moment it looked like they would get away when her feet were knocked from under her. She fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of her, she rolled over to look up at her attacker, an elf shimmered into view, their skin a goldish hue that was entirely unique to any elf she had ever met before.

“Shemlen, mar solas ena mar din.” was uttered by the elf, their dagger raised to kill. But before the final blow could be wrought, a sword was plunged through their chest. The elf choked and gagged on their blood, their face twisted in surprise as they collapsed onto the forest floor. 

Before her now stood a Red Templar, no lyrium grew from their ill fitting armor, but old dried blood had painted the armor red. They reached out a hand and gently helped Josephine to her feet. As she stood, she saw, scratched onto the surface of the armour's chest, a strangle oblong symbol with spokes emerging from the sides. It took Josephine a minute to register that the symbol was a cockroach. 

“Neerah?” The word was croaked out and horse, as if Josephine had been shouting before that moment. The soldier raised a finger to where its mouth would be behind their helmet and made a shushing gesture. 

The soldier began to lead her back towards the Chevaliers, from all sides elves came out of nowhere, these attacks barely gave the soldier pause, cutting each one down in a graceful arc of death. The movements felt more like a dance than a battle, and Josephine knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that this soldier was her love. 

They moved as quickly as possible, but ultimately it was still slow going, there were many elves and only one of Neerah, despite being the superior swordsman. Finally after what felt like an eternity they broke through the underbrush to a clearing just beyond the boundary of the Arbor Wilds. The Chevaliers stood shoulder to shoulder locked together to protect the Empress. Josephine immediately raised her hands to show she meant no harm. 

“Drop your weapon.” She hissed to Neerah, afraid that she might engage with the Chevaliers. It was one thing to fight the elves in a forest, but a battalion of the most highly trained soldiers in Orlais? That was something she doubted even Neerah could do. She felt her hesitate; “ _Please_ ” she begged quietly, she did not want to watch Neerah be cut down in front of her. After a moment Neerah slowly placed the sword on the ground and raised her own hands. 

It was not the Chevaliers who rushed forward to seize Neerah but the Inquisition soldiers who had fallen back with them who did so. Josephine was shoved to the side as the men and women in arms grabbed Neerah and started kicking and beating her. She made no sound as they brought the pummels of their weapons down onto the armor, denting it even further.

“Stop! That is enough!” Josephine shouted, finally gaining the attention of the small mob before her. “That is the General of Corypheus’ army, you see the symbol carved onto their armor? He will be our prisoner and you will not harm them any further.” Josephine ordered her voice shaking slightly. 

The soldiers stared at her for a long moment, she feared for a moment that they would ignore her and go back to beating Neerah. Finally two of the men roughly grabbed Neerah and dragged her away to one of the newly erected tents. Josephine could barely breathe a sigh of relief. She had a much more difficult challenge ahead of her now, how the fuck was she supposed to keep Neerah alive? Surely Cullen, the Inquisitor and the others would want her dead. Josephine took a deep breath and tried to not let the sheer impossibility of the task overwhelm her.


	21. Chapter 21

“Anything?” Leliana asked as Cullen entered the main tent. 

Cullen just grunted and grabbed a glass of wine, after taking a long drink he asked instead “Any news of the Inquisitor?”

It had been hours, the Inquisitor had entered the Temple of Mythal hot on the heels of Corypheus and his followers. A few hours later Corypheus and fled on his dragon, abandoning his scattered army and disappearing. The Inquisitor had not left the temple since entering, and passage had been all but impossible since the gates swung closed behind them. All they could do now is wait.

“Still no word.” Josephine supplied as Leliana poured over reports that were piling in from her agents throughout the forest. The elves had all but disappeared, but the Red Templars were peppered throughout the area. 

“Has our new guest provided any answers?” Leliana asked.

“Nothing, she hasn't said a word no matter how much we coarse her to talk she has remained silent.”

“She?” Josephine asked.

“Once we pried the helmet and armor off it became quite clear that our General is a woman. No one has recognised her. She is a mystery.”

“Perhaps she is not the true General? But a decoy? The armor was ill fitting after all” Leliana mushed.

“I doubt that. I saw her fight, it was unlike anything I have ever seen. Someone with that much skill had to have been in charge.” Josephine argued. 

“I am inclined to agree with the Ambassador.” Cullen said, at Leliana’s raised eyebrow he elaborated. “Her sword, it is made of Dragon Bone and Veil Quartz, only a person of great importance would carry such a fine blade.”

“Let me see the weapon, perhaps my agents can find out who was asked to craft such a blade, shed some light on our prisoner.”

Cullen grunted and took another swig of wine. “I don’t see why it matters, she is too dangerous to be left alive, and I doubt she will have too much information that would be useful to us now that her army has been scattered. Best to just hold her here, and let the Inquisitor deal their judgement when they return.”

Josephine fought to keep her face neutral at the Commander’s comment, panic clawing at her throat like some sort of fear demon. Before she could interject, argue the use of such a high level General, the tent opened and Charter entered. 

“I just got word from Skyhold.” She said, holding out a small slip of paper.

Leliana took it and skimmed the contents quickly “It would seem the Inquisitor is safe and back in Skyhold. Morrgian was correct, there was an Eluvian in the Temple, they used it to flee Corypheus and return to Skyhold.”

Cullen sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I will alert the troops to start packing up. We shall depart at dawn.”

“Agreed, I will send word to my agents.” Leliana added.

“I will see the Empress off, I think she will be eager to return to Val Royeaux after this victory.” Josephine said, already heading for the tent exit. 

Instead of going straight for the Empresses envoy she took the long way heading towards the tent at the edge of camp. She was trying to work out what she would say to the guard outside, but she needn't worry, after the exhaustion of the day they had fallen asleep at their post. Josephine quietly crept past the guard and moved the flap aside entering the tent.

She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. There were some vents in the ceiling of the tent casting a harsh light across the figure tied to the beam in the center. Ropes lashed across their middle and arms tying them to the wood. It held them in a sitting position, their legs splayed out in front of them. 

Quietly Josephine knelt down beside the unconscious soldier, gently moving the inky black hair obscuring her face out of the way. Finally, for the first time, Josephine looked upon her love. She drank her in greedily, there were bruises and blood on her face from the beating she had taken. The scars she had alluded to in her letters were contained to the right side of her face. She could see how one would find them harsh or scary. But Josephine could only appreciate the beauty of them.

Neerah was younger than she had thought, this woman was not much older than her. In her mid thirties at most. Her skin was a warm colour and her eyes slanted, Josephine wondered what colour they were. 

“See something you like?” The words were croaked out and scratched raw, but there was a richness to them, a softness that caused goosebumps to appear across her skin. Josephine's eyes flicked up to meet Neerah’s which were now cracked open. Even in the dim light she could see that it was a dark brown mixed with flecks of grey. 

“Yes,” Josephine whispered, her hands cradling Neerah’s face so gently as to not hurt her, “yes I think I do.” Neerah smiled softly at that, her head leaning forward to bump foreheads with Josphines, their noses brushing softly. “Do you?” Josephine asked awkwardly, Neerah had already made her appreciation for her appearance quite clear, but Josephine wanted to hear it.

Neerah hummed slightly, an almost rumbling groan as she pretended to think about it. “I’m not sure.” Josephine guffed and smacked Neerah’s shoulder lightly in false indignation. Who would have thought her love had a sense of humor? The gall! “My apologies Ambassador, it is simply hard to see anything when I am in your divine radiance.” she mumbled the words so quietly against Josephine’s lips. Like a prayer, like a kiss. 

Josephine inhaled sharply at those words. “Careful my darling, if you keep saying things like that someone might kiss you.”

“Lucky me.” Neerah mumbled, a small crooked grin sliding across her face. Josephine’s eyes flicked up to Neerah’s asking her question wordlessly, Neerah didn’t notice, occupied it would seem with staring at her own lips. 

Hesitantly Josephine leaned in, giving Neerah the chance to pull away if she so chose to do so. Their lips brushed lightly at first, the barest touch. 

What happened next Josephine could not truly describe, but she had been right, Neerah did burn. It was explosive, a thousand fireworks exploding behind her eyes and her skin ignited with fire. She was aware that it was Neerah who was the one to change the angle of her head to deepen the kiss. And it was Neerah who groaned from the back of her throat as Josephine applied more pressure. But it was Josephine who moaned as she licked the seam of Neerah’s lips and entered her mouth with her tongue. And it was Neerah, all Neerah, who whined in the most delicious toe curling way as she pulled back and Jospehine caught Neerah’s bottom lip in her teeth and nipped gently at it.

Neerah leaned against the beam, breathing raggedly, as if she had just run a mile in full armor. Josephine moved closer, she wanted more. Craved it. Is that what Cullen felt about lyrium? She understood him now in his addiction, how could anyone go without something so sweet? 

“Wait.” Neerah muttered her voice horse. 

Not a moment later the tent flap opened and Cullen entered. Josephine sat back quickly putting some distance between them.

“I- what are you doing in here Josephine?” 

“I was bringing the prisoner some water, I had hoped it might entice her to make some more formal introductions.” Josephine said, trying to save face. Praying that Cullen did not ask where the container of water was, as she did not have one on her. 

“And?” Cullen asked, an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. Doubtful of course that their prisoner would give up anything. 

“Neerah.” The word came out in a short burst, harsher the Josephine would have expected. “My name is Neerah. Neerah Trevelyan.”

Cullen's face showed that of mild surprise. “Is there anything else you’d like to share with us?” 

“No, I don’t think there is.” Neerah mushed, her eyes sliding closed and feigning sleep. 

Cullen sighed and guided Josephine out of the tent. “Come on Josie, the Empress wishes a last word with us before she departs. 

Josephine nodded mutely and followed the Commander out of the tent, before the flap closed she chanced one last look behind her. Neerah was staring after her, as the flap started to fall into place she saw Neerah mouth the word ‘Yours’ to her. 


	22. Chapter 22

She didn’t get a chance to see Neerah again on the journey back to Skyhold. Cullen had her constantly watched, convinced that his prisoner would attempt to escape. There was no way that she could speak to her without drawing suspicion. The revelation of her full name made Leliana’s job no easier. She had contacted her family, who flat out refused to acknowledge her existence. Insisting instead that there must be some mistake, their daughter Neerah had died sometime during the Blight. Others from the Free March army had started to come forward, confirming that the person they had was in fact Neerah, although they were unable to give much more information about her than that. It seemed that Neerah Trevelyan was an incredibly private person. Despite all of this the Spymaster refused to be deterred. 

It was about a week after they had all returned to Skyhold that things had calmed down enough to finally start to deal with what to do about the General. 

“I’m not sure how comfortable I feel about the idea of  torture .” The Inquisitor hedged “Would that even work? You said yourself that she has refused to give any information about herself or Corypheus.”

“Well what do you suggest then?” Cullen snapped.

“We could just try her.” 

“I have a contact who might have some more information on the General, I suggest we wait to decide anything until I hear back from him.” Leliana countered. 

“I agree with Leliana.” Josephine said quietly, taking down a few notes on the meeting. 

“Of course you would agree, she saved your life.” Cullen scoffed “You know she only did that so we wouldn’t kill her on site. She saw that she was losing to battle in the Wilds and helped you in a last ditch effort to save her own skin.” 

“Then I think we should allow Josephine to talk to her.” The Inquisitor stated.

“What? Are you insane?” Cullen protested a shocked expression on his face. Josephine couldn't help to be grateful for his outburst in that moment. All attention was on him and if anyone had been looking at her they would have seen the expression of relief on her face.

“Josephine was able to get her name from her, if you can convince the General to give up any information that would be of use to us, then it would probably be in our best interests to keep her around.”

“And if Josephine doesn't?” Cullen asked wearily “She is too dangerous to be kept here, it’s only a matter of time before someone tries to free her.”

“Then I will pass judgment on her tomorrow, and if she has refused to give us any information then I will execute her myself.” the Inquisitor decided with a hard expression. 

It was later that evening after dinner had been served that Josephine was allowed her audience with Neerah. A chair had been placed outside her cell, the guards waiting outside the entrance to the chambers to allow for some privacy. The hope being that Neerah might be more willing to talk if they were alone. The dungeon was drafty and cold most likely due to the fact that the back wall beyond the bars had never been rebuilt. There was no escape but in death if a prisoner so desired.

Josephine stood just beyond the cell bars, Neerah, who had been dozing when she entered, was now sitting up regarding her curiously. Josephine was struck once again by how young she appeared. The light was better than the tents, and despite the late hour, she was afforded a better look at her love. 

“What are you thinking?” Neerah asked quietly, curiosity colouring her expression.

“You are… younger than I thought you would be.” Neerah looked slightly surprised at her expression, she had not expected such a comment. “I thought, based on your successes, rank and experiences that you would be older. In your late forties or early fifties. You look barely older than me.”

“Are you disappointed?” 

Josephine got the feeling that the question was not just about her age. “No, how old are you?”

Neerah grinned lazily, and rose to walk over and lean against the cell bars across from her, an unhurried air about her despite the fact that this time tomorrow she could be dead. “Now I may not be the court expert that you are, but even I know it's rude to ask a Lady her age.”

Josephine tried to suppress a smile “Ah you are correct, but you are no Lady, you are a General.”

Neerah hummed in agreement, her smile becoming slightly more prominent “I suppose you are correct Ambassador. I am thirty-two years of age.”

“Twenty-nine.” Josephine offered her own age with a pleased smile. Glad that the gap was so close, glad that there was at least one think about them that was appropriate. 

“Why are you here, Josephine?”

Josephine sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of her name, it was the first time Neerah had said it. She spoke it like a caress, like a lover, but then again that is what she was. And did she not promise Jospehine that her name would be holy on her lips?

“The Inquisitor hopes that I can persuade you to give us some information of Corypheus’ whereabouts, on his actions, what his plans are. They would be willing to spare you if you corporate. If you don't-” Josephine stopped swallowing thickly “you will be dead tomorrow. You don't have to give them everything, it would be better if you didn't. Meter it out, gain their trust slowly, and in time I could persuade them to grant you your freedom. We could be together after this is over, far away from all this war.”

Neerah smiled sadly, an almost mournful look on her face. “You spin such a beautiful tale. But we both know it cannot happen.”

“It can, we could.” Josephine  tried to argue, despite knowing that Neerah was correct . She’d already considered every outcome of this, and it would seem Neerah had too. 

“No my love. With my cooperation will come questions. ‘How did you know where to find the Ambassador in the Wilds? You two seem so close, how did you become friends so quickly? Why General Trevelyan, the way the Ambassador looks at you, is it love?’ It would only be a matter of time before your Spymaster found out our little secret. And if they found any one of our letters you would become complicit.”

“Maybe I don't care.” Josephine muttered harshly, gripping the bars tightly. 

Neerah smiled sadly tracing her index finger over Josephine knuckles. “You do, or you would have said something to them by now. We both know that it is not just you that is put at risk by this, but your family. If anyone were to find out that I secured your family's trading in Orlais you would lose everything. The House Montilyet would never recover from such a scandal. If anyone were to ever find the last letter you sent me, the one where you told me the actions of your army and your location. You could be put to death too.”

Josephine let out a shaky breath and leaned her forehead against the bars of the cell. Neerah was right of course, they knew this from the start. Everything they were could not be known. And it would die with Neerah tomorrow.

“I sent your letters away. I could not bare to destroy your lovely words. They will never be found, I promise you this.” Neerah said suddenly closer than she was before. Josephine was struck then by the humanity of Neerah, everything about the great General, the impossible Cockroach had seemed larger than life. But now, standing across from her, separated by some iron bars, she seemed so normal. She was just a woman. 

“And I will keep your words for the rest of my days.” Josephine murmured. She leaned in then, her lips barely ghosting Neerah’s before the door to the dungeons opened and Cullen entered, halting their actions. 

“I will never forgive him for stealing that kiss from me.” Neerah muttered.

“Nor I.” Josephine agreed quietly as she drew back.

“Well? Has she agreed to cooperate?”

“No.” Josephine said, suddenly grateful it was Cullen who had interrupted and not Leliana, she would have heard the way her voice cracked at the end of the word. Cullen did not notice. “It would seem that tomorrow the Inquisitor will sit in judgment.” she answered as she walked towards the Commander. 

“Very will. Enjoy the view, it will be your last.”

“Oh I will.” Neerah responded with a small smirk on her face.

Josephine was glad for the long summer shadows to hide her flush. She knew of course that Cullen meant the sunset just as well as she knew Neerah meant her.


	23. Chapter 23

“Your worship. I submit to you General Neerah Trevelyan, who remains loyal to Corypheus. She surrendered without a fight to the Inquisition once the tide turned during the our invasion of the Arbor Wilds. Saving my life in hopes of protecting her own.”

It was early morning, despite the hour the grand hall was stuffy and hot. Packed with many people who wanted to see the judgement that the General of Corypheus' armies would meet. Josephine felt sick as she ran through the crimes Neerah had committed. Though she doubted she had done many of them it still hurt to know that someone she loved had caused so much pain. 

The Inquisitor regarded Neerah for a long moment, bound in chains and kneeling before the throne. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The Inquisitor asked, a final out, an opportunity to save herself. Though Josephine knew Neerah would not take it, she found herself praying to the Maker that she would be spared somehow. 

“Perhaps my list of alleged crimes would be shorter if you had a more competent military leader.” Neerah said flatly. Two men had to grab Cullen and restrain him before launching himself at the General. Neerah just looked bored. Unworried and uncaring of her imminent death. Josephine shot her a look, but Neerah just stared ahead. 

“I have made my decision” The Inquisitor said rising from their throne “Neerah Trevelyan I sentence you to-”

“Wait!”

The doors to Skyhold was flung open and a man rushed in, hurtling up the hall briskly, he was flanked by two guards, one on each side. Josephine frowned, the man looked vaguely familiar, although she could not place him. She chanced a glanced at Neerah who was staring at him wide eyed and a stricken expression. As if she had just seen a ghost. Josephine swore she heard Neerah utter a soft curse as the man drew closer. 

“Please, Inquisitor, before you give your judgement I ask that you allow me to speak in defense of Neerah Trevelyan.” The man begged, he was older, tall and muscular with dark skin and a thick Orlesian accent.

“You want to speak in  _ defense  _ of the accused?” The Inquisitor asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, is that allowed?” The man asked cautiously. Neerah for the most part just seemed shocked to see the man in front of her.

The Inquisitor looked to Josephine for guidance, but all she could do was shrug helplessly. “Very well.” The Inquisitor agreed after a moment of consideration. They sat down again in their throne and gestured for the man to speak. 

“My name is Matias Brunn.” At the announcement of his name gasps rippled through the room. Josephine’s eyes widened in recognition, everyone in Orlais knew who the legendary Chevalier was. “For those of you who might be unfamiliar with who I am, I am the greatest Chevalier of our generation. Or I was.” He said a rueful expression crossing his face. “Not long before the Fifth Blight, Grand Duke Gaspard was elected to the highest rank of our organization. He was able to maneuver himself into such a position due to the status and resources his public position allowed. He saw me as a threat to this title, and in doing so had me excommunicated from the organization. I was banished from Orlais by the Empress herself, a move I think to appease her cousin. It was on my journey to the Free Marches that I met Neerah Trevelyan, a lost soul just as myself. I offered for her to come with me, I offered to teach her everything I knew, and thus… the greatest swordsman of our Age was born.”

There was just enough visiting Orlesians in the crowd to react appropriately to the scandal that was unraveling before them.

“Two years ago Neerah stood accused of the crime of murdering her platoon of men, a crime I now know she was framed for. I regret to say that at the time I chose to listen to the advice of others over the word of the woman who I view as my own daughter. I allowed her to be stripped of her rank, dishonourably discharged from the army and be sent back to her family. People who no doubt tormented and abused her. I know that Neerah did not agree with Coryephus’ ideology, I know that she did what she could to ensure that Corypheus’ army was crushed during your invasion of the Arbor Wilds-”

“Now hold on just one minute!” Cullen interjected stepping forward. “I won that battle, us and the Inquisition did! It was hard fought and hard earned!” 

Matias smiled almost pityingly at Cullen. “Commander please, you have lost most of the battles you fought against Neerah, my spies tell me that it was only when you were assisted by the Inquisitor, Spymaster or Ambassador that you would claim victory. Neerah spent over ten years in the Free March army fighting in forests, do you really think you could beat her in an environment she was so familiar with?”

“You lie!” Cullen snarled angrily “This is some sort of Orlesian trick, some sort of move in your ridiculous Game!”

“Every move is part of the Game, my boy. But if you do not believe me, I have a signed correspondence from the General confirming what I have said.” Matias said reaching into his robe and pulling out a letter. “If you would allow me to submit it as evidence Inquisitor?”

“Sure?” The Inquisitor said looking rather bewildered with how the whole situation was evolving. 

“ _ Matias,  _

_ ‘I apologise for the gap in time from my last correspondence, Corypheus has had his army gather in the Arbor Wilds, and it has proven difficult for me to arrange all of the players in their appropriate places. The Inquisition draws near and I have lost my taste for this war a long time ago. How then do I give them a victory they so desperately need when they are led by such an incompetent fool? Cullen Rutherford engaging me in a battle in a forest is like a shark having a swimming contest with a human baby. He has lived in gilded cages his whole life and his one claim to victory is trebuchets. I am almost embarrassed for him.’  _

_ ‘Perhaps I should sweep in and claim my victory, I will be remembered as the greatest warlord of the Dragon Age if I do. It would be so easy, hide my men up high in the trees, attack from above. Create chaos everywhere I turn. I could assassinate the Empress, I have heard she will be there. Then I will have claimed the lives of two Orlesian leaders. Did I tell you of this? I killed Gaspard, in front of the whole Orlesian Court. I have gotten your revenge for all that he took from you. Me, a weapon of your own making, one that would never have existed if it had not been for his own greed.’  _

_ ‘But no, it is wrong, I no longer wish to see the world burn, but healed. I will throw this battle, clump my men’s supplies and tents together so that they will be easy to burn. I will divert the Red Lyrium shipments so that some of the soldiers start to experience withdrawal. I will make them run drills and exercises so they are so exhausted they won't be able to lift their own swords. They will hate me before this battle begins but what do I care? I doubt I will live to see it’s end. I will dawn a foot soldiers armor and allow myself to be cut down with these evil men who serve me. I only ask that you come and find my body, burn it please. I will scrape a cockroach into the breastplate so that you may know me, but you will not have to look upon the face of your disgraced adopted daughter.’ _

_ ‘Regards, _

_ Neerah” _

“Is this true?” Josephine asked, looking at Neerah in shock. 

Neerah’s eyes were cast to the ground, after a long moment she finally nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“Please Inquisitor, you must acknowledge that this changes things, in the end she was trying to help you. I went to war and served with Neerah, I know what she is capable of and if she had wanted to win that fight none of you would be alive right now.”

The Inquisitor examined the letter and sighed, “What would you have me do? I cannot reward her for one good action, there must be punishment.”

“Banishment and house arrest.” Matias offered quickly, a hopeful look on his face. “Banish her from the South and I will take her to my estate in the Free Marches. She will not be allowed to leave, nor have contact with anyone else. She will live the rest of her life in isolation. On my honour, if she tries to make contact with anyone or leave, I will kill her myself. Until my dying breath I will see to it that this is so.”

The Inquisitor was quiet, considering this alternative. 

“You can’t be seriously contemplating this!” Cullen protested, looking sick at the very thought that Neerah might get out of this. 

The Inquisitor held up their hand to stop any further protests. “Tell me, General Trevelyan, with his armies crushed and his allies dead, what will Corypheus do next?”

Neerah stared at the Inquisitor, and Josephine feared she would not say anything. Matias nudged her and hissed something in his charge’s ear.

After a long moment and a sigh she spoke “He seeks to unmake this world. Despite what he claims he still believes in the Old Gods, in Dumat. If he has truly lost everything as you so claim, then he will go to where this all started and unmake the world, even if it kills him.”

The Inquisitor stared at Neerah for a second, considering her words. “Send scouts to Haven.” 

Leliana nodded and swept out of the room. 

“What of Neerah?” Matias asked quietly.

“You may take her, but if I ever so much as catch a whiff of her presence outside of your estate, you and she will both pay the price.”

“Of course, thank you.” Matias gestured for his guards to grab Neerah; they pulled her up and started leading her out of the hall as fast as they could with her still bound and chained. Matias was clearly worried that if they did not leave fast enough the Inquisitor may change their mind. 

Just as she was about to exit Neerah turned back and made eye contact with Josephine. She saw her mouth the word ‘Mine?’ in the form of a question. Josephine nodded slightly and mouthed back ‘Yours.’

The doors slammed shut. She did not see Neerah again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this story. I deeply appreciate it!


End file.
